The Only Thing Better Than JellO
by Romula
Summary: Jack and Sam had different opinions on the fate of the clone. Jack's angry, but will Sam's logic win? S/J.


The Only Thing Better Than Jell-O (is Jell-O With Carter)  
  
Rating: R  
  
Spoilers: Set after the events of "Fragile Balance." Specific spoilers for "Tin Man" and "Point of View," and by association "Double Jeopardy" and "There But For the Grace of God."  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not making any money, and I promise to put them back where I found them. Honest.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Long legs, blonde hair, blue eyes, brilliant mind - Jack O'Neill paused for a minute to consider that last one. Sure, Carter was smart. A genius even. And she knew more technical terms than Merriam and Webster could come up with. But sometimes . . . sometimes Sam Carter came up with the damned stupidest ideas. This latest was the stupidest yet, in his opinion, and he felt, considering all the stupid things he'd done in his life, that he was qualified to make that judgement. Highly qualified.  
  
"I can't *believe* you wanted to *keep* him."  
  
Carter only smiled. That damned patronizing know-it-all smile that she got just before she started to explain something complex and technical. The one that never failed to set Jack on edge. He really, really wanted to wipe that smile off her face. On the other hand, he really, really liked to see her smile, even her damned Scientist smile. Damn. "Sir, you know how valuable he would be to the Stargate program."  
  
She was still talking about it like it was a possibility. Jack suddenly found himself wishing for something to hit.  
  
"With all the knowledge and skills you've picked up during your time with the military and dealing with other races -"  
  
And the added bonus of being over thirty years younger than he was, he thought, even though Carter would never say it.  
  
"And his mind is still flexible enough to acquire new knowledge quickly and easily; he could learn all sorts of languages, he could even learn to work on the naquadah reactor -"  
  
So basically Carter was saying that Jack was old and useless, and that she'd rather have Mini-Jack around so that she could finally get some appreciation from an O'Neill.  
  
Which was entirely unfair. He appreciated her, he really did. It wasn't his fault he had a short attention span. Or at least that's what he told her. Any such claim was refuted by the hours he could sit by a lake with no fish, going through the motions of fishing. For some reason Carter seemed willing to ignore this. Which was another reason he appreciated her. In fact, he appreciated her far too much for her own good, and that was why he worked so hard at appearing not to pay attention to her whenever she started saying something scientific. It was also why he sometimes actually failed to pay attention to her when she said something scientific, because he was far busier paying attention to parts of her he shouldn't have been paying attention to. Like her hands, and her mouth -  
  
"So you see, sir, it would have been greatly beneficial to have both you and Jack working here."  
  
Damn. Damn, damn, damn! Jack had been in the service long enough to have picked up enough colorful language to make a platoon of Marines blush, and if he could have remembered any of it the conversation would probably have ended with Carter decking him. Fortunately he couldn't, because pretty much the only thing his brain could concentrate on was the fact that she called him Jack. Not *him*, not Jack O'Neill who was walking with her through the corridors of SGC, who had *actually* been working with her for seven years, who had saved her many times over and even more often been saved by her, who should be the one on the receiving end if Carter was going to be calling anyone "Jack," Air Force be damned - but it wasn't him. It was the *other* him. The clone.  
  
The first convenient solid object he found not made of concrete or metal was going to be in for a rough time.  
  
Carter stopped walking and just looked at him expectantly, eyes slightly wider and brighter than usual, mouth curved up at the corners, a little more flushed than she should be. Jack sometimes wondered if it wasn't a little twisted for her to get off on arguing like that, and he was sure it was wrong for him to get off on her reaction.  
  
"Wouldn't you agree, sir?"  
  
He had started it, and she was going to finish it, because she thought she'd win. But Carter had been far too amused by the prospect of having the clone around for Jack to concede victory.  
  
"As a matter of fact, Carter, no, I do not agree." This was normally where the pretense of not paying attention finally paid off, because the fact that he knew what not to agree with meant that he was listening after all. But he hadn't been paying attention. He disagreed on general principle, because she was for the clone staying, and . . . "It would have been a huge mistake."  
  
"But sir," Carter's eyes grew, if possible, wider. She couldn't possibly still be shocked that he objected. "Just think what a good operative he would make. You *are* rather recognizable you know, there are plenty of System Lords who know you by sight, but no-one would ever suspect that Jack is you, and he could do a lot of deep-cover work -"  
  
"Carter, it's stupid! It would never have worked. And it would have been *weird*." Now she did looked surprised. He probably shouldn't have said stupid. But it *was* stupid! It was the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, a dark stain on Carter's illustrious history of Fucking Insane Yet Ingenious Plans.  
  
"Sir, it couldn't have been that weird. Yes, of course it would have taken some getting-used-to, but surely it would have become, well, normal."  
  
"What would you know about it!" Jack snapped. He shouldn't have, he knew, he should have had better control, but she was being ridiculous.  
  
Carter frowned reproachfully. "Well, sir, I realize that this isn't exactly the same thing, but it's not really so completely different than our experiences with Harlan's androids. And of course, the quantum mirror."  
  
Ah yes. Of course. How foolish of him. How could he have ever forgotten Dr Carter? But he wasn't going to think about it, because it raised far too many other questions that he never thought about. Or tried not to, with varying degrees of success. He wondered if he should apologize, and decided against it. That could require him to think about why he had apologized, and that was dangerous. He did, however, make an effort to sound calmer. "The thing is, Carter, that Dr Carter wasn't you. She was you, but she wasn't *you*."  
  
Oh, good Jack. That makes *lots* of sense. And for our next contestant, Colonel Jack O'Neill, United States Air Force, special subject: making the simple complex. "She didn't have the same memories. She didn't have the same experiences." Yes. That was true. Dr Carter, for example, had wanted to kiss him entirely free of outside influences. And had.  
  
"Yes, sir, but for all intents and purposes, Dr Carter and I were the same person. Essentially."  
  
"But Ja - the clone - he was me. I mean really. Except for the age thing, he was me in every other way. Same memories, same experiences, same thoughts, same feelings . . ." And there it was, the main source of contention. Jack and Jack had the same thoughts and feelings. *All* the same thoughts and feelings.  
  
Carter looked considerably more flushed than she had a minute ago. No one said anything; they simply stood in the hallway, looking at each other. It was entirely inappropriate behavior for an officer and his second-in- command. But then their entire relationship -- was not something he was going to think about. He was going to stop staring at Carter, murmur a polite goodbye, turn around, walk down the hallway, around the corner, into the elevator, go up one level, walk down several more hallways, walk into the locker room, and take a shower.  
  
Right. Time to stop staring. Now. Jack, stop now. Jack. Stop staring at Carter, Jack! *Jack!* His brain was remarkably unhelpful. It was conspiring against him, he was sure. Probably because of Carter's brain. Yep. They were definitely in league. Carter's brain had seduced Jack's brain into disobeying his own orders. Traitor!  
  
On the other hand, if he was going to be staring at something, Carter would certainly be his first choice. Her eyes were still wide, brighter and darker than normal. He had, since meeting Sam Carter, learnt many new words for "blue." Azure. Sapphire. Cobalt. Cerulean. Indigo. Beryl. Light blue, powder, baby, sky, midnight, ocean, turquoise, ultramarine, teal, cornflower, periwinkle, cadet, dodger, cyan, navy, slate, steel, royal . . . right now Carter's eyes were somewhere between royal blue and steel blue. Her skin was tinged pink and her lips were parted slightly. Jack was suddenly aware that she was breathing rather more quickly and heavily than he would have expected. She looked like she'd just been thoroughly kissed. Hey, who'd been kissing Carter? He was the only one allowed to kiss Carter, and damn it, he was going to -  
  
Think about something else! Her hair! Carter's hair was a mess. She was growing it out - DrCarterDrCarterDrCarter - and at the moment it was just long enough to be a lovely, shaggy, haloing mess. Carter's hair was probably silky. It certainly looked silky. She would probably never bother buying expensive hair products, which meant it was just naturally silky. Of course. Because Carter was the kind of woman who would have naturally silky hair. Soft, silky, pale blonde hair just long enough for him to run his fingers through as he stretched her gently over his bed, kissing her neck, her shoulders, moving his tongue across her - shower! Cold shower! Safe thoughts! Boots! His boots needed polishing. Yep. That was a safe thought. There was absolutely nothing even remotely erotic about polishing boots. You just took 'em off, got out the polish and a brush and some newspaper (so the polish didn't get on anything else), then you pulled the laces out and used them to tie Carter's hands to the bed-frame, then you - took a shower! With ice cubes! Damn!  
  
Carter's lips began to move. Jack concentrated on not jumping her. That would have been a very big mistake. After all, they were still in public. He'd have to wait until he could get her back to his - shower! Cold - ooh, Carter in the shower. With him. In the shower. With Carter. With Carter in the shower. Both of them very wet - no! Cold shower! Yes, cold shower! Both of them very wet and very cold, how ever would they keep warm . . . no, no, no, not thinking about it, not thinking about it, thinking about, er, about, Goa'uld! Yes, Goa'uld! Nothing at all that could ever possibly be construed as erotic about the Goa'uld, not like boots, the snakes were gross, they slithered inside you and - Carter was trying to say something, but so far was only managing to make breathy little sighing noises. Would she sound like that when he kissed her? As his hands slid through her hair, caressing her shoulders, slipping down her back and under her clothes . . . This was *so* not good. He still hadn't moved, partly because he wasn't sure that, if he did, he could force himself to move away from her rather than closer.  
  
Carter finally managed to speak. "Sir, I -" Her breath caught for a moment. "- I don't see why that would be a problem."  
  
*She fucking what?!* How the hell could she not understand why that was a problem?! She *knew* how he felt, she felt the same - didn't she? They never talked about it, but her feelings hadn't changed, had they? Damn. Jack instantly deflated.  
  
"If he weren't on-world much, we'd hardly see him. Especially since we're off-world so much ourselves. And sir," Carter suddenly became very interested in the floor. "You know, he really isn't you."  
  
Jack had long ago turned his habit of starting at Carter while thinking thoughts unbecoming an officer into a science, and over the past five minutes had been busily trying to turn it into an art form. Now, however, all he could do was stare. He couldn't think at all. Not even about how she managed to make her standard-issue BDUs look sexy, or how she was biting her lip nervously. A stray brain cell that hadn't grasped the concept of complete neural shutdown informed him that Carter was looking at him in a very interesting manner. She looked . . . hopeful. Like she was waiting for something. So he did the only thing he could think of.  
  
He grinned at her. She had a point. They weren't the same person. Not really. Because he would never have been able to leave Carter willingly, and the clone had. And somehow she knew it. Damn her.  
  
"Ya know Carter, I hate it when you're right."  
  
She smiled, a wistful half-smile that made his chest ache. "Yes sir. I hate it when you're right as well, sir."  
  
"Which explains why you're always so happy." He grinned again, and was rewarded with a grin from Carter. "Wanna go get some Jell-O? They've got blue today."  
  
"Sure." She laughed. "I just have to stop by the lab for a few minutes. We're analyzing the results from the flight tests; I want to see how it's going. Meet you in the commissary in ten?"  
  
Jack was too happy to care about the flight tests. He had Carter and Jell- O. "Nah. I'll walk you to your lab. I can wait."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
And they continued down the hall. Jack, still grinning like an idiot, told himself that he only imagined the words she whispered.  
  
"I can wait, too."  
  
FIN 


End file.
